


Asymptote

by CelestialVoid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, BAMF Stiles, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, From Sex to Love, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt, Hurt Derek, Hurt Stiles, I'm Bad At Tagging, Kidnapped Stiles, Kidnapping, M/M, Making Out, Marking, Neck Kissing, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn, Porn With Plot, Riding, Rimming, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Sharing a Bed, Smut, Torture, angst and hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-09-23 23:52:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9688559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialVoid/pseuds/CelestialVoid
Summary: It all started on a stake out when things got a bit hot and heavy in the car. After that, they swore it was a one-time thing. But things don’t always go to plan.





	1. One and Done

**Author's Note:**

> Asymptote: noun. A straight line that continually approaches a given curve but does not meet it at any finite distance.

Stiles sighed and leant forward against the dashboard. He perched his head in his hands and stared out through the slightly misted windscreen of Derek’s soccer-mum four-wheel-drive. He let out a heavy sigh, feeling the burning glare of the alpha who sat beside him. He knew he was starting to get on Derek’s nerves, but they had been sitting there for a while and Stiles was getting bored.

He slumped back in his seat and wriggled about in an attempt to get comfortable.

“Just sit still,” Derek growled, his bright eyes focused on the backdoors of the large building.

“We’ve been here for hours,” Stiles whined. “Nothing’s happening so why don’t we just go?”

“We’ve been here for forty-three minutes,” Derek corrected. “And we need to stay here in case something does happen.”

Stiles pouted and slumped further back into his seat.

“It feels like it’s been hours,” the boy argued.

Derek rolled his eyes.

“Is this what you do when Cora goes on dates?” Stiles prodded. “Do you just sit outside the restaurants or the cinemas and wait? Or do you just not let her go on dates at all?”

“Shut up,” Derek ordered.

“I’m just trying to find a conversation topic. Maybe if we talk about something it would help pass the time,” Stiles offered.

“Fine,” Derek muttered. “What do you want to talk about?”

Stiles opened his mouth to speak when Derek interrupted him, “Nothing to do with my sister.”

Stile closed his mouth again and thought for a second.

“When was the last time you had sex?” Stiles blurted out.

“I’m not talking to you about that,” Derek replied.

“Fine, just stop me when I get close. Hours?”

Derek didn’t reply.

“A day? Two days? A week?” Stiles pressed but to no avail. “A fortnight? A month? Two months?”

Derek kept his strong gaze focused on the world outside the windows.

“Three months? Four? Five?” Stiles continued. “Six? Seven? Eight? Nine? Ten? Eleven? A year!?”

“One year, eight months and three days,” Derek answered.

“Dude!” Stiles said with amazement.

“I’ve had four girlfriends: one died and the other three have all tried to kill me,” Derek muttered. “So it’s easier - and healthier - for me not to get attached.”

“Wait, Braeden tried to kill you?” Stiles asked.

“She got a contract,” Derek explained. “And you know her, she’d do anything if the money’s good.”

“I’m sorry,” Stiles murmured.

“It’s fine.”

A moment of silence passed between them, the awkward quiet settling over them and intensifying the tension.

“So you haven’t had sex since then?” Stiles asked.

“No.”

“Haven’t considered… purchasing company?” Stiles pressed.

“No.”

“Self-pleasuring?”

“Stiles, stop,” Derek growled.

“What? There’s nothing wrong with jerking your jerky,” Stiles countered. “It’s actually healthy. You know, endorphins and stuff.”

“It’s that what you tell yourself?” Derek teased.

“No,” Stiles replied. “Because I’m not ashamed of it. At least I know I can get myself off and don’t have to worry about pleasuring anyone else.”

“Can we please change the subject?” Derek snapped.

“Okay,” Stiles muttered, defeated. There was a moment of silence before he dared speak up again to ask, “Have you ever kissed a guy?”

Derek let out a frustrated sigh.

“No,” he admitted.

“Me neither,” Stiles said casually. “Although there are a lot of attractive guys that I would kiss, like Danny or Boyd, or even Scott when he does his superhero shit; that’s really hot. Hell, I’d even kiss Isaac if I wasn’t afraid that his negativity would brush off on me. And you. I’d kiss you.”

“Thanks, I’m honoured,” Derek said nonchalantly.

“What about you?” Stiles asked. “If you had to kiss one guy who would it be? And it doesn’t have to be a relationship or anything, it would be like a one and done thing that is never spoken of again. So, who would you kiss?”

“I’d kiss you,” Derek growled. “Maybe it’d shut you up for a second.”

Stiles smirked.

“Nah, it wouldn’t. But I’m right here if you ever want to try,” Stiles offered.

Derek rolled his eyes and grabbed Stiles by the front of his shirt. He pulled Stiles across the cabin of the car and crushed their moths together.

Stiles froze – stunned – but soon relaxed into the warmth of Derek’s lips and returned the kiss. He let his breath fall from his lungs as his shoulders dropped. His eyes fluttered shut as he looped his arms around Derek’s neck. He laced his fingers through Derek’s soft, raven-black hair.

Derek dropped his hands to Stiles’ waist and pulled him close, enveloping him in his warmth. He felt the boy’s body melt into his own. He cupped the back of the boy’s head, lacing his fingers through Stiles’ unkempt chestnut locks while his other hand trailed down the boy’s side, caressing his surprisingly firm body before settling on the curve of his hip.

He ran his tongue across Stiles’ bottom lip and Stiles moaned blissfully as he obediently opened his mouth to welcome Derek’s tongue.

Stiles sighed in return, weaving his fingers into Derek’s hair, balling soft tufts into his fist as the other hand slid up the man’s chest and around his neck.

Derek drew back to draw breath, leaving them both panting.

“Holy shit,” Stiles gasped.

Derek leant in close again, his hands resting on Stiles’ hips as he pulled the boy closer. One hand trailed up Stiles’ side and cupped the back of the teen’s head, lacing his fingers through the Stiles’ unkempt hair.

Stiles tilted his chin, chasing his Derek’s lips.

The man smirked as he pulled Stiles closer and brought their lips together again.

Stiles hummed blissfully as he weakened in Derek’s hold.

Stiles slid his hand up under the hem of Derek’s shirt, feeling the taut muscles that twitched beneath the man’s golden flesh. He caressed the man’s soft skin, feeling the smooth curves and the warmth of his body.

Stiles pulled back to draw breath.

Derek chased the boy’s soft pink lips, bringing them together again. He kissed him lightly, drawing away quickly as he craned his neck and placed a trail of kisses across the boy’s cheek, jaw, chin, and neck. He stayed there, gently sucking and nipping at Stiles’ pale skin and moles; brushing his teeth against them just hard enough to make the boy moan but not hard enough to leave a mark. He pressed soft kisses against the patches of skin which were marred by the soft impressions of his teeth, reducing Stiles to soft whimpers. His hands slid beneath Stiles’ hoodie and ran up the curve of his spine, urging the boy to arch to his touch.

The kiss was tender and loving, but it quickly escalated into something more passionate. It was deep and messy.

Stiles looped his arms around Derek’s neck, using his weight to pull the man closer. He opened his mouth and heeded to Derek’s dominating tongue.

Derek laced his fingers through Stiles’ hair, the buds of his fingers gently massaging his scalp.

Stiles hummed against Derek’s lips.

The hand on the boy’s hip pulled him closer, the ball of his thumb rubbing circles on the pale, exposed patch of Stiles’ skin.

Stiles drew back again, resting his forehead against Derek’s. He could feel Derek’s rugged breaths pant against his lips, the trails of warmth lingering on his lips.

Derek craned his neck and bought their mouths together one last time, brushing his lips across Stiles’ lightly – barely a kiss – before sitting back in his seat.

“Wow,” Stiles said breathlessly. “Just… wow.”

They were interrupted by the sound of Stiles’ phone chiming in his pocket. Stiles fumbled with it as he pulled it out of his pocket and unlocked the screen to read the message from Scott.

He shoved it back into his pocket and looked up at Derek.

“They’re finished inside and are heading home,” Stiles announced.

Derek leant forward and turned the engine on. He was silent as he reversed out to the curb and turned onto the road. He drove down the road, silent and focused.

“So, um…” Stiles started slowly. “Do you want to continue that kiss back at the loft?”

Derek didn’t reply, his sharp gaze focused on the road as the car glided across the streets and into the back roads of Beacon Hills. He pulled up before the loft and shut off the engine.

Stiles waited, quiet and confused as he watched Derek get out of the car and walk inside. He decided to follow the man inside.

Derek waited until Stiles stepped into the loft before he slid the door shut. He turned on the boy and stalked over to him like a predator who had their sight on their prey. He walked the boy back up against the door. He pressed his hips against Stiles’, pushing him back against the door and pinning him against the cool metal.

He heard Stiles’ breath hitch excitedly as he looked deep into Derek’s glittering aventurine eyes.

Derek couldn’t fight it. He rested his hands on Stiles’ hips and pulled the boy closer, feeling the warmth of the boy’s body melt into his own. One hand trailed up the boy’s side and cupped the back of the boy’s head, lacing his fingers through the boy’s hair. He pulled Stiles closer and tugged at his hair, making the boy gasp excitedly as he fell back in Derek’s hold.

Derek crushed their mouths together.

Stiles let out a weak whimper, his breath falling from his lungs and his eyes fluttering shut as he weakly grabbed at Derek’s jacket.

This wasn’t like the kiss in the car, this one had one purpose in mind: sex.

The jagged nails of his hand on the boy’s hip clawed at his jeans, testing the thick denim and leaving angry red marks across the exposed patch of Stiles’ skin.

Derek’s breathing grew heavy as he pulled back, tugging at Stiles’ hair and making him throw his head back and expose his throat.

Derek latched his mouth onto Stiles’ neck and ran his lips over the boy’s throat, gently sucking at the pale, mole-speckled skin before moving down to the boy’s collarbone. He nipped and gnawed at the flesh, listening to Stiles moan.

The boy arched towards his mouth and pleaded, “More.”

Derek shoved Stiles back against the door, grinding their hips together as he bit down on the flesh.

Stiles yelped, his nails clawing at Derek’s chest.

“Oh God, yes,” Stiles cried.

Derek pulled back to admire his handiwork.

The skin was red and speckled with burst blood vessels. That was sure to leave a mark.

Derek smirked.

He leant forward again and ran his mouth across the boy’s throat, sucking and nipping at Stiles’ pale skin, nothing like before; one bruise was enough. He brushed his teeth across Stiles’ Adam’s apple just hard enough to make the boy moan.

Derek’s heart fluttered for a second when he realised that Stiles had complete faith in Derek and trusted him not to bite or hurt him.

The brutal passion returned as Derek crushed their mouths together.

Stiles looped his arms around Derek’s neck, using his weight to pull the man closer.

Derek’s fingertips gently scratched at Stiles’ scalp as their tongues fought for dominance, though it didn’t take long for Stiles to yield to the alpha’s power.

Stiles moaned against Derek’s lips.

Derek slid his hands down to the boy’s sides, gripping his hips and hoisting him off his feet.

Stiles let out an excited yelp and instinctively coiled his legs around Derek’s waist as the alpha pinned him back against the wall.

Derek broke away from the kiss and stripped Stiles’ hoodie and tee-shirt off.

Stiles wriggled slightly, pulling his arms free of the sleeves and bringing his hands back to Derek’s face to crush their mouths together again. He ran his fingers across Derek’s jaw, feeling his rough whiskers and his thundering pulse. He breathed in the heavy musky scent of the man and let out a soft sigh as he melted into the kiss.

Derek rolled his hips, grinding against Stiles’ and making the boy whimper needily.

Derek adjusted his grip on Stiles, lifting the boy around his waist and carrying him over to the bed. He tossed the boy onto the bed, watching him fall back against the mattress with a gasp of surprise.

Stiles looked up at him, his eyes full of lust as Derek teasingly stripped off his jacket and shirt. The boy licked his lips ravenously, his glittering amber eyes devouring every inch of Derek’s golden skin.

The alpha smirked as he lowered himself onto his hands and knees and crawled forward onto the bed. He towered over Stiles, lowering his hips and grinding Stiles back against the mattress.

The boy hooked his legs around Derek’s, rubbing his foot up and down the man’s calf.

Derek slid his hands down to Stiles’ ass, kneading the firm cheeks before quickly unbuckling the thick leather belt around his slender hips. He unzipped Stiles’ jeans and pulled his legs free of the tight denim, his boxers following soon after.

Derek slid his firm hands up Stiles’ thighs and pushed the boy’s legs forward, lifting his ass into the air. He spread the boy’s soft cheeks and brought his mouth to Stiles’ eager hole. He flicked his tongue across the taut ring of muscles, teasing at the boy’s entrance. He set a rhythm of slow drags, quick flicks and slow, tortuous circles until Stiles was reduced to babbled cries and broken moans.

Derek waited for Stiles to relax before letting go of the boy’s legs. He pulled back and reached across the bed for the sleek dresser that ran along the wall. He pulled open one of the drawers and rummaged around for the bottle of lubricant and a condom.

He tossed the condom onto the bed and sat back to look at Stiles.

He was a vision to behold: pale skin glistening like moonlight as the dull light illuminated the thin sheet of sweat. His breathing was heavy, a desperate fight to regain his composure against his overloaded senses.

“Keep going,” Stiles panted, guessing Derek’s next question.

Derek nodded and popped open the lid to the bottle of lube. He poured the cool gel across his fingers.

“Roll over onto your stomach,” Derek instructed.

Stiles did as told.

Derek spread the boy’s cheeks and slid a lube-slick finger into the boy’s hole. He moved his finger back and forth, teasing Stiles open before sliding a second finger into the boy.

Stiles moaned and pushed back against Derek’s hand, his breath hitching in his throat as Derek’s fingertips brushed against his prostate.

Derek withdrew his fingers from Stiles’ hole.

“Roll over,” Derek instructed again.

Stiles did so, hiding his face in his hands in order to prevent Derek from seeing the soft pink glow in his cheeks.

Derek smirked. He clambered off the edge of his bed and pulled off his jeans. His thick cock pressed against the thin cotton of his boxers.

Stiles quickly pounced onto his hands and knees and shuffled forward. He looked up at Derek pleadingly.

Derek lifted his brow quizzically.

Stiles licked his lips.

Nothing else needed to be said.

All it took was a nod from Derek for Stiles to eagerly seize the opportunity, mouthing at the soft cotton that covered Derek’s bulge. He slid his hands up the man’s toned thighs and hooked his fingers under the elastic waistband, pulling Derek’s boxers down to his ankles and freeing his cock.

Stiles was frozen for a moment.

Derek stood before him, naked, exposed and as glorious as ever. The real thing was better than anything Stiles could have ever imagined.

He licked his lips hungrily.

It was there before him and his for the taking.

Stiles shuffled closer and knelt before him, taking Derek’s length in his hand and slowly sliding his hand up and down the shaft. He rolled the ball of his thumb across the head of Derek’s cock, drawing a few drops of precome and smearing them across the head of his cock.

He had never given - nor received - such favours, but he had spent many nights pleasuring himself to know what felt good.

He stroked Derek, slowly and firmly.

Derek let out a low growl, encouraging Stiles to continue.

Stiles looked up at the man, struck by the power in his heavy gaze.

His inner exhibitionist came out; he wanted Derek to see how he could take his dick, he wanted to please the alpha.

He carefully lapped at the head of Derek’s cock, tasting the delicious salty come as he flicked his tongue across the slit.

Stiles licked his lips lustfully. He leant forward and slowly, purposefully, pressed kisses to the length of the man’s cock.

Derek purred, lacing his fingers through Stiles’ soft hair.

Stiles lifted his eyes to Derek’s, running his tongue up the underside of the man’s impressive length before returning to lap at the head.

Derek’s eyes lit up a brilliant crimson.

He heard Stiles’ heart skip a beat before quickening excitedly.

Stiles took the head of Derek’s cock into his mouth and sucked at the tip. He swirled his tongue around the head before sinking his mouth down to his fist. He tightened his mouth and dragged his lips back up the length.

Derek purred, spurring Stiles on.

The boy pulled his hand away from Derek’s dick and put it on his own, running it up and down his own rigid shaft as he moved his head over Derek’s dick, faster and faster.

Stiles moaned, the vibrations going straight to Derek’s cock. Derek growled in response and the boy’s hips bucked into his hand at the sound. He pumped his shaft faster and faster as he enthusiastically sucked at Derek’s cock.

Derek ran his hand through Stiles’ ruffled hair, rolling his hips and sinking further into the boy’s mouth.

Stiles choked slightly and Derek drew back, letting the boy take it at his own pace.

Spurts of precome liberally dribbled down Stiles’ throat, making him hum with pleasure.

Derek tried to maintain his composure, drawing in shaky breaths and stifling moans as Stiles continued.

Stiles gently cupped the man’s testicles – another trick he had learnt through self-experimentation. He felt Derek set his hand at the back of his head and guide him in his motions – deep and demanding.

He neglected his own dick in favour of steadying himself as he took Derek’s dick further into his throat.

“I’m going to come over your face,” Derek announced.

He withdrew his length from Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles lifted his hand to Derek’s cock and pumped the shaft until the man climaxed.

Derek came with the head of his cock on Stiles’ lips and semen spurting into the boy’s mouth and across his face.

Stiles let out a little needy whimper, just enough to push Derek further over the edge. He kept his mouth open until Derek finished. When the man finished, Stiles swallowed hard and licked at the beads of come that dripped from his lips.

“Lie back,” Derek instructed, his composure returning in an instant.

Stiles complied readily.

Derek grabbed his discarded boxers and half-heartedly wiped himself clean. He reached across the bed for the condom he had tossed aside earlier. He tore open the foil packet and rolled it over his returning erection – he couldn’t help it; Stiles was lying before him, needy and ready. He grabbed the bottle of lube and slicked up his length.

He crawled back onto the bed, reaching forward to grab a pillow. He slid it beneath Stiles’ hips before settling himself between the boy’s legs.

“You sure?” Derek asked.

“I’m sure,” Stiles assured him, reaching for Derek tentatively.

The man leant forward and buried his face in the curve of Stiles’ throat. He bit down lightly on the junction of Stiles’ neck and shoulder, smirking as Stiles arched up with a full-body shudder and a wordless moan. Having found a spot sensitive enough to earn such a response, Derek teased it relentlessly: nipping and sucking at the tender spot before lathering it with kisses.

He slid his hands down to Stiles’ hips and pulled him into his lap.

Stiles’ crotch throbbed at the sound of Derek’s soft gasps and groans as he rocked his hips and rubbed his returning erection against Stiles’ entrance, teasing him open.

Derek dragged his claws across the skin on Stiles’ hips, watching angry red marks trail in their wake. He kneaded at Stiles’ soft cheeks, a low rumble escaping his chest and rolling across the boy’s skin.

Stiles shuddered at the sensation, rolling his head back and exposing his throat.

Derek took advantage of the boy’s dropped defences, bringing his lips to Stiles’ jugular and littering the skin with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. He nipped and sucked at the skin, not hard enough to break the skin but just enough that it would leave a mark in the morning, and definitely enough to reduce the boy to shuddering moans.

Derek ran his hand through the boy’s soft locks, gently tugging at his unkempt hair.

Stiles melted into his hold, letting Derek’s slender fingers guide him as he tilted the boy’s head to the side slightly and brought their mouths together in another kiss.

Derek ran his tongue across Stiles’ lips and Stiles obeyed, opening his mouth to welcome Derek’s demanding tongue.

It was deep and messy, as Derek thrust his tongue deep into Stiles’ eager mouth.

Stiles ground back against Derek’s hips.

Derek purred, arching forward to return the thrust.

Sweat caressed their bodies and their scents began to mingle.

“Derek,” Stiles gasped, breaking away from the kiss for a second. “Fuck me.”

Derek’s hips stuttered against Stiles’ ass. He sat back, feeling the boy shiver from the loss of warmth. He spread the boy’s cheeks and lined himself up with Stiles’ eager entrance before he eased his length into Stiles’ ass.

Stiles tensed for a moment at the intrusion, hissing at the strange sensation of penetration.

“You okay?” Derek asked.

It took Stiles a second but the boy nodded and muttered, “Yeah, keep going.”

Stiles was breathing heavily and smothering a moan as he tried to relax and welcome the man’s throbbing length.

Derek began to roll his hips in slow, shallow thrusts, giving Stiles the time he needed to get used to the new sensation.

Derek was struggling to stay patient. Stiles’ ass was hot and deliciously teased open, and resisting the urge to simply give in and savagely fuck the boy into the sheets was testing his already limited self-control.

Stiles gently rolled his hips against Derek’s length.

Derek rested his hands on the boy’s hips, slowly drawing out before bucking his hips and slamming his length into Stiles’ ass again.

Stiles arched his back, a savage moan tearing at his throat.

Derek’s carnal instincts took over, grabbing a hold of Stiles’ hips and thrusting into the boy.

Stiles cried out, the wave of pain delighting him, making his crotch throb and ache. His arms trembled and he collapsed forward against the mattress. He buried his face into the pillow, biting down into the cotton and muffling his moans.

Derek arched over Stiles, his thrusts faster and deeper as he nipped at the ridges of Stiles’ shoulder blades.

The boy let out a strangled moan.

Derek pressed his forehead against Stiles’ shoulder, nuzzling his face into the slender boy’s warmth. He littered kisses across Stiles’ shoulders, reaching between them and took Stiles’ dribbling cock in his hand. He rubbed his thumbs in circles, feeling the tense muscles twitch beneath his touch.

“More,” Stiles gasped.

Derek growled, nipping at Stiles’ shoulder.

“More,” Stiles begged, his voice laced with lust.

“I’ll give you what you want,” Derek promised, his breathing ragged and eyes flaring red with power.

He thrust into Stiles, sudden and brutal.

Stiles cried out.

Derek moved one hand from Stiles’ thigh to the boy’s neck. He gently massaged the flesh before applying pressure. He squeezed the boy’s throat, thrusting harder and faster. He heard the boy gasp for breath, wheezing as Derek choked him more.

Derek ran kisses along Stiles’ jaw, glancing at the boy’s face.

The corner of Stiles’ lips were curved up into a small smile, his chocolate-brown eyes misted with lust. His lips hung open, twitching as the promise of sweet relief danced before him.

Derek’s grip tightened on Stiles’ thigh, his claws threatening to pierce the skin and draw blood.

He glanced up at Stiles’ face. There was no indication of pain, only pleasure.

Derek lost himself, his hips moving by instinct as he savagely fucked the boy.

Stiles’ moans escalated into one drawn-out cry. His nails dragged at the back of Derek’s skull, earning a deep growl as the alpha picked up the pace.

Derek released his grip on the boy’s throat, listening to Stiles gasp for breath beneath his ragged cries. He adjusted his grip on the boy, looping his arm under the boy’s leg and resting it above his shoulder, flipping Stiles onto his side. He grabbed the boy’s waist, pulling the boy down over his length as he slammed into him.

Derek pounded him into the sheets, his rigid cock bruising Stiles’ insides.

“Derek,” Stiles whimpered, his stomach knotted painfully by the orgasm he had been holding back. “Please. I can’t…”

Derek leant forward and whispered, “Then come.”

Stiles didn’t need to be told twice.

He let out a savage moan as spurts of sticky come splashed against his abs. Air escaped him, his lips quivering and eyes fluttering. His eyes fell shut and he collapsed back against the bed.

Derek bucked his hips one last time and came, hot semen spilling into the condom.

He took a second to catch his breath as he rode out their orgasms.

He slowly withdrew from Stiles’ ass, shuffling back on the bed. He slid the condom off his flaccid length and tossed it into the bin.

He could hear Stiles’ heavy breaths as he tried to steady himself.

“Holy fuck, Derek,” Stiles panted. “That was… incredible… euphoric… I don’t even know. I can’t find the word for it right now; you fucked my brain out.”

Derek slumped down on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands.

Stiles turned his head to the side, looking at the defeated silhouette of the man.

“Hey,” Stiles said softly, wincing as he sat up and dragged himself over to Derek’s side. “What’s wrong?”

“I fucked up,” Derek muttered.

“What do you mean?” Stiles asked.

“That… That was…” Derek couldn’t look him in the eye. “I shouldn’t have.”

“Derek, I’m eighteen and I gave consent,” Stiles reminded him. “It’s perfectly legal.”

“You’re the Sheriff’s son and Scott’s best friend,” Derek argued. “You’re _my_ friend. And I’ve just gone and fucked all that up.”

“Hey,” Stiles whispered soothingly. He reached across and set his hand on Derek’s firm arm. “It was just sex. You know, like casual sex. It doesn’t have to mean anything. And if you never want to do it again then we won’t. It’ll be a one and done thing. I’ll leave it in the past and we’ll never talk about it again. Okay?”

Derek didn’t reply.

“Okay, I can tell that you need some time to think about this,” Stiles announced, lifting himself up onto his feet. He staggered slightly and stumbled about, wincing with pain. “So, I’ll give you your space. I’ll just dress myself and leave.”

Derek could hear the boy fumbling about as he wrestled his numb legs into his jeans and made his way towards the door.

Stiles hesitated.

“Derek, you have my number and I’m still your friend,” Stiles said softly. “This doesn’t mean anything if you don’t want it to and we’re still cool. So just… call me when you’ve made a decision.”

He turned and took a few steps before stopping again.

“If you hear a loud thud, it’s me falling down the stairs,” Stiles shouted back into the loft. “And if that’s the case then a little help would be appreciated.”

Derek couldn’t help but chuckle.

He listened carefully to every painful step Stiles took. He heard the dull thud of Stiles shutting his car door and then a few seconds later the old Jeep sputtered as the engine started and rumbled as it drove down the street.

Then it was quiet.

Silent.

And Derek was left alone with his thoughts.


	2. Another Alpha

Scott leant across the car and sniffed again.

“Oh my God, dude,” Stiles cried. “Just stop.”

“Why do you smell like Derek?” Scott finally asked.

“Because you had me sit in his car for an hour last night instead of coming inside with you,” Stiles growled, clearly agitated by his friend’s decision to make him sit outside and miss watching Scott fight Isaac.

“I’m sorry,” Scott replied. “But we needed someone to cover the exits in case Isaac decided to run.”

Stiles sullenly pulled the Jeep into his usual parking spot and turned the engine off.

He froze for a moment, looking through the windscreen at the man who stood by the boundary fence of the school grounds.

The man levelled his eyes with Stiles, taking off the dark shades he wore to expose his cloudy grey irises. His posture spoke volumes for the power he held and his cold glare didn’t waver as he looked directly at Stiles.

Scott reached for the doorhandle but Stiles quickly grabbed his other arm. He looked back at Stiles, confused.

“What?” Scott asked.

“That guy…” Stiles muttered.

Scott followed Stiles’ gaze to the lean figure by the fence.

“He’s blind,” Scott replied, pointing out the walking stick in the man’s hand.

“Something seems off about him,” Stiles whispered.

It was as if he could hear them because right on queue his face warped into a maniacal grin.

Stiles sank further back into his seat.

“Come on,” Scott encouraged, pulling his doorhandle and bouncing out onto the solid ground. “Let’s just get to class before we’re late.”

Stiles kept his eyes focused on the man as he reached back and grabbed his bag. He opened his own door and climbed out, locking the car behind him and shrugging his backpack onto his shoulders. They hurried towards the building, prancing up the stairs that led up to the large blue double doors.

Stiles dared to glance over his shoulder one more time, his heart lurching into his throat as he noticed the man hadn’t moved, but his misted grey eyes were still focused of Stiles.

Stiles swallowed hard and rushed inside.

He was quiet during the rest of the day, focusing on taking notes and only answering questions when he was called upon.

He knew Scott was staring at him, but he felt too hypervigilant to care. Scott was the least of his problems. The blind man watching him had set his nerves off and put him on edge. He wasn’t sure if it was just paranoia or if there was actually something sinister about this guy that they would be wary of, but there was something about the stranger that had him really freaked out.

The final bell rang and Stiles filtered out of the classroom and blended into the streaming crowd of students. He returned his books to his locker, pushing a couple of textbooks and worksheets into his bag.

Scott slid to a halt beside him, leaning against the grey locker to get a good look at his friend’s face.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” Stiles lied.

Scott leant forward, blocking Stiles’ locker. “Dude, I’ve known you for years. I can tell when you’re lying.”

“I’m fine,” Stiles repeated, reaching around Scott to grab his backpack. “And if you continue to interrogate me then you’re going to have to beg Kira for a ride home.”

“What’s going on?” Kira asked.

“Stiles is paranoid because a blind guy looked his way this morning,” Scott explained.

“That’s not it,” Stiles growled. He slammed his locker door shut and shoved the lock into place. “Something’s up. I don’t know what, but I feel like something’s about to happen and everything’s going to go to shit and it all starts with that blind man.”

“Stiles, you need to chill,” Scott encouraged softly. “Maybe it’s just the stress getting to you. Take a day or two off and then focus of studying for tests. It might help.”

Stiles opened his mouth to argue when his phone chimed. He pulled it out of his pocket and read the text from Derek.

 

**Derek**

We need to talk. Come over after school if possible.

 

He froze for a second, his heart skipping a beat.

“Kira, can you give Scott a lift home?” Stiles asked, typing out a reply to Derek and sending it. “I have somewhere I need to be.”

“Okay,” Kira replied pensively.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Stiles farewelled as he pocketed his phone and hurried towards the doors. He made his way out into the parking lot and got into his Jeep. The engine coughed and sputtered, groaning as it came to life.

He pulled out of the parking spot and made his way through the streets of Beacon Hills. He drove towards the quiet, long-dead, industrial side of town to where Derek’s loft stood tall among the buildings.

He parked his Jeep and got out.

He hesitated for a moment.

What if Derek blew him off? What if he had decided he never wanted to see Stiles again?

He drew in a deep breath and headed upstairs.

The door to the loft was open.

It was uncomfortably quiet.

“Derek?” Stiles called quietly.

He stepped inside and noticed the large pool of blood on the polished concrete. But what made it worse was the thick red smears across the widows, purposefully made into the shape of a symbol like a triskelion but with straight, jagged lines.

“Derek,” Stiles rasped.

“Bed,” came the quiet reply.

Stiles rushed over to the small alcove that Derek had made his bedroom.

“Are you okay?” the boy asked, panic chilling his veins as he looked down at Derek’s pasty complexion and blood soaked clothes.

“Just… need time to heal,” Derek muttered.

“Okay,” Stiles whispered. “Before you fall asleep, tell me what happened.”

“Alpha pack,” Derek wheezed. “Trying to take over my territory. They tried to make me part of their pack but I said no…” He grunted as he tried to move. The pain was too much, he collapsing back against the sheets again, weak. “Let’s just say, they don’t take rejection well.”

“Alpha pack? As in a pack made of alphas?” Stiles gasped in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Derek muttered weakly, his heavy eyelids falling shut over his pale eyes. “They’ll be after Scott next… have to stop them.”

“You have to get some sleep,” Stiles corrected. “I’ll deal with Scott.”

Derek didn’t reply. He let out a heavy sigh and sank back against the bedsheets.

Stiles pulled out his phone and dialled in Scott’s phone number. When his friend answered, Stiles gave a quick recap of what had happened to Derek and told Scott to keep clear of the Alphas.

“Okay, I was going to stay at Kira’s tonight anyway,” Scott announced before quickly adding, “To study.”

“Studying anatomy, are you?” Stiles teased.

Scott didn’t reply.

“Look, I’m going to call my dad and then I’m going to spend the night at Derek’s to make sure the Alphas don’t come back and that he doesn’t die in his sleep.”

“Alright,” Scott said quietly. “Call me if anything happens.”

“Take care, Scotty.”

“You too,” Scott farewelled before hanging up.

Stiles quickly typed out a message to his father that he was staying at a friend’s house overnight to study for the upcoming tests and then set his phone aside on Derek’s desk.

He rummaged through one of the linen cupboard and pulled out an old towel. He laid it across the bed and carefully rolled Derek over onto the soft towel.

He pulled the stripped fabric of the man’s shirt away from his blood-soaked torso.

He hurried into the bathroom and tugged at the edge of the mirror, hearing the magnets give way as the cupboard opened. He grabbed the First Aid kit and some damp towels, running back to Derek’s side. His hands trembled as he ignited the cigarette lighter he found in the kit and waved the needle in the heat of the flame. Stiles held his breath and tried to still his hands as he threaded the needle and began to stitch the gashes of flesh back together.

Everything was red and smelt of copper and iron.

He made his way into the kitchenette and picked up a large bowl. He filled it with water and carefully carried it all over to Derek’s bed. He cautiously set it down on the floor before collecting a small towel from beside the bed.

He reached down for the wet towel and wrung it out and started to wipe down Derek’s chest.

The man jerked awake, his eyes crimson red as he grabbed Stiles’ frail wrists in his vice-like grip.

Stiles gasped and whimpered, “Derek, calm down.”

“Stiles?” Derek asked, squinting slightly. He blinked the red glow out of his eyes and looked at the boy, confused.

“I’m just cleaning your wounds,” Stiles explained. “And it would really help if you just laid back and let me take care of you.”

Derek nodded and laid back on the bed.

Stiles returned to wiping the bitter-smelling blood and salty sweat from the man’s toned abs, well aware that Derek was watching his every move.

Derek wheezed and cough, blood trickling from his lips.

Stiles’ bright eyes flicked up to him. “Derek, tell me the truth. Are you dying?”

Derek didn’t reply.

“Derek? Are you dying?!”

Derek’s head lulled from side to side. He fell back against the pillows, weak.

“Derek?!” Stiles barked.

“I’m fine,” the man muttered. “Alpha wounds just take longer to heal.”

“Do I need to call Deaton?” Stiles asked.

Derek shook his head. “I just need to rest.”

“Then go to sleep,” Stiles encouraged.

“It’s kind of hard to do that when a gorgeous man is giving me a sponge bath.”

Stiles bowed his head and hid his warm blush.

“Well if you would stop fidgeting and coughing up blood then I could do this quickly,” Stiles muttered.

“You don’t have to,” Derek whispered.

“Well you look like hell and smell like death so I’d rather not spend the night with that stench,” Stiles argued.

“You don’t have to stay the night,” Derek muttered. “I can take care of myself.”

“You can’t even drag your furry ass out of bed, how the hell are you going to fight off a pack of alphas?” Stiles asked.

“And you can with your little baseball bat?” Derek countered, meeting Stiles’ gaze.

“At least I can try,” Stiles replied. “So shut up and come to terms with the fact that you are getting a sponge bath and then you’re going to be babysat for the night.”

Derek let out a heavy sigh and laid back.

Stiles continued, cleaning the man’s chest before gently encouraging him to roll over, stripping off the last few rag-like strips of what once was his shirt and wiping down his back. He set a clean towel beneath Derek and rolled him onto his back again.

Once clean, he pressed gauzes to Derek’s chest and wound bandages around his ribs to hold them in place.

He watched as dark swirls seeped into the bandages.

He gently rolled Derek onto his side and set him down among the bedsheets. He tossed the bloody towels into the bathtub, rinsing them and leaving them to soak in the water. He put the First Aid kit back in the cupboard behind the bathroom mirror and washed his hands.

Stiles stepped back into the main room, peering into the small alcove that was Derek’s bedroom. He felt his stomach knot at how weak and vulnerable Derek looked.

He emptied the bowl of water down the drain and filled it again. He set the bowl down in the centre of the open space, looking between the large pool of blood that covered the polished concrete and the crude symbol painted with blood across the wall of windows.

Where to start?


	3. Two and Through

It took Stiles a while to clean up the blood that had been spilled across the loft. Once Derek’s home was clean, he emptied the bowl of it’s murky contents, cleaned it, and went downstairs to get his baseball bat and gym bag out of his Jeep.

On his return, he set the bat down against the wall by the bedroom – for security – and he glanced in at Derek.

The man was still fast asleep but the dying light of day danced across his skin, revealing the heavy gashes that were finally starting to heal.

Stiles rummaged through his gym back and grabbed his baggy gym shirt and a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants. He snatched another towel from the linen cupboard and made his way into the bathroom.

He quickly turned the shower on and waited for the water to rattle through the pipes.

He drew in a breath and looked down at the mess of his clothes, covered in blood and sweat. He stripped the layers and tossed them in a messy pile in the corner to be dealt with later.

He shook his head and climbed into the shower. He shivered beneath the warm water, feeling the heavy droplets strike his back.

He turned and braced his forearm against the tiles, heaving in deep breaths as he shoved aside the images of Derek’s blood-soaked body. He shut his eyes and tried to recall something else, anything else, but he regretted it instantly.

His crotch throbbed and his dick twitched slightly as he remembered the sight of Derek’s sculpted abs and the way Derek looked down at him as Stiles sucked his dick. He remembered the weight of Derek’s cock in his mouth and the feeling of Derek’s firm body grinding against this own. He remembered Derek’s whiskers tickling Stiles’ throat as he craned his neck and devoured patches of skin with kisses and nips.

Stiles’ fingertips trailed over the ridge of his collarbone, feeling the dull throb of pain as he touched the hickey Derek had left there.

His dick ached, desperate for stimulation and relief.

He debated it for a minute – it wasn’t his house and he wasn’t alone, but he was in the shower and Derek was asleep.

He let out a heavy sigh and lowered his hand to his cock, gasping at his own touch. He was sensitive, easily worked up by the memories of last night’s escapades. He bucked into his hand, gripping tight at the base as he worked his hand up and down the shaft.

He imagined what it would feel like to have Derek’s soft lips wound around his cock, head bobbing as he took the length into the back of his throat.

Stiles threw his head back, biting his lips shut to stop himself from crying out.

He felt the ghostly trails of Derek’s hands as they caressed every inch of his body, the tips of his finger connecting his scattered freckles and mapping out constellations across his moonlight pale skin.

He moved his hand faster, pressing his forehead against the cool tiles and biting into the flesh of his forearm.

His breathing was shallow as he fought back his whimpers and moans, feeling his stomach tense as he drew closer to his climax.

 _Derek_ , he thought, imagining the man groaning against his cock as he sped up the pace. Bright red eyes flicked up to meet his, lustrous and hungry as Stiles imagined the man lapping at the head of his cock before sinking down over it again. _Derek._

It pushed him over the edge. His hips buckled into his grasp as warm come spilt over his hand. His knees trembled as he collapsed against the wall, struggling to hold himself upright.

He stood still for a while, warm water rolling over his skin as he slowly regained his senses.

He quickly washed himself off and got out of the shower. He dressed and walked back into the other room.

He made his way into the kitchen and started to rummage through the pantry and cupboards. He tossed a packet of pasta onto the benchtop before scavenging for a pot and a few other ingredients. He filled the pot with water and set it on the stove to boil.

He wasn’t hungry – in fact, he felt quite sick after cleaning away all that blood and a little light headed after his self-relief – but he wanted Derek to eat something as soon as he woke up.

A dark figure appeared in the doorway, making Stiles jump.

“Jesus,” Stiles gasped. “You scared the life out of me.”

Derek smirked as he stepped forward, silently edging his way across the room and sauntering up to Stiles’ side. He slid in between the boy and the bench, reaching back to turn off the stove before running his fingers across Stiles’ pale skin. He ran his fingertips over Stiles’ surprisingly-firm shoulders before trailing them down his chest, following the ridges and seams of the muscles that were hidden beneath Stiles’ shirt. He leant in close, his breath rolling across Stiles’ lips as he edged the boy backwards, pushing him back against the table. He was pleased by the surprised gasp which escaped Stiles’ lips as his hips met the wood and Derek pinned him in place.

Derek’s hands fell to Stiles’ hips as he ground his hips against Stiles’, pushing him the dark grain of the wood.

Derek tilted his chin, bringing their lips together, and relieving the space that divided them.

Stiles laid back on the dining table, pulling Derek down with him. The boy moaned in ecstasy, deepening the kiss.

Derek struggled to catch his breath as they broke apart.

He clambered up onto the table, straddling Stiles’ slender waist.

Derek could taste the boy’s lips, the lingering sweetness of his saliva and the heat of his tongue that always submitted before Derek’s. His breathing was broken and ragged as they parted for mere seconds.

Derek slid his hands up Stiles’ arms, pinning them above his head. His soft fingertips brushed against the skin of Stiles’ wrists, tracing the thick veins down his forearms. He could feel Stiles’ tortured pulse drum against his thumb.

He trailed his lips across Stiles’ jaw and up to Stiles’ ear, gently gnawing at the boy’s earlobe and eliciting a quiet whimper from him.

Stiles felt Derek smirk as he whispered, “I heard what you did in the shower.”

Stiles’ heart skipped a beat.

Derek leant back, cocking his brow suggestively.

Stiles’ face burn as he bashfully tried to hide his face.

Derek smirked and brought their mouths together again. He ran his tongue across Stiles’ lips.

Stiles opened his mouth and welcomed Derek’s tongue, grabbing at the fistful of the man’s hair.

Derek ground his hips down against the boy’s, pushing him down against the table.

Stiles moaned against his mouth, bucking his hips back against Derek’s. He looped his arms around Derek’s neck and hooked his leg around the man’s hips.

Derek pulled the boy upright and carried him towards the bedroom. They stopped every few meters, panting as Derek pinned Stiles against the walls and doorframes. He crushed their mouths together and ravished the boy’s mouth, loving every second of it.

Finally they made it to the bed, where they unceremoniously collapsed on top of the mattress.

Stiles rolled Derek onto his back, setting one hand on the man’s chest to make sure he laid still. He drew back from the kiss, panting as he sat upright and pulled his tee-shirt over his head.

Derek’s hands instinctively fell to Stiles’ hips, his thumb tracing circles across his skin.

Stiles caught his lower lip between his teeth, drinking in the sight of Derek’s ravenous eyes rolling over his exposed body and watching his every movement. Stiles slid his thumbs beneath the elastic of his track pants and shoved them down to his knees, his boxers following as he wrestled them off his legs.

Derek slid his hands down to Stiles’ ass, groping the soft cheek. Stiles moaned and pushed back against his hands.

Stiles reached across the bed, rifling through the dresser drawer for the bottle of lube and a condom. He flipped open the lid and spread it across his skinny digits. He reached around behind himself and gently teased himself open, sliding one slender finger inside.

He yelped at the sudden wave of pain.

“Easy,” Derek whispered soothingly, reaching back to hold onto Stiles’ wrist and still the boy.

“It doesn’t feel as good as you do,” Stiles uttered.

Derek cupped Stiles’ ass cheeks, kneading and spreading them. He craned his neck and trailed kisses across Stiles’ throat, feeling the vibrations of Stiles’ whimpers.

“Take it slowly,” Derek instructed. “One finger at a time, move your hand back and forth.”

Stiles’ breath caught in his throat and it irritated Derek that he couldn’t see what the boy was doing to himself.

He heard Stiles sigh heavily and stifle a moan.

“There you go,” Derek whispered. “Now a little deeper.”

Stiles ground his ass against Derek’s firm hands.

“Add another finger now,” Derek muttered, littering kisses across Stiles’ throat.

Stiles did as he was told and sild a second finger into his eager hole.

“Spread your fingers,” Derek instructed.

Stiles obeyed, letting out a savage cry as his back curved and Derek sank his teeth into the boy’s exposed throat.

He was careful not to bite hard enough that it would leave a mark, but just hard enough to leave the boy breathless and shivering at his touch.

“Derek,” Stiles gasped.

“Yes?” Derek purred, gently kissing the bright red teeth marks.

“I want more,” Stiles whimpered.

“Try putting another finger in,” he instructed. “Slowly.”

Stiles hissed and panted as he shifted his fingers about and pushed a third one into his tight ass. He grunted, pushing back against his hand.

“Curl your fingers.” Derek watched as Stiles obeyed. His fingers hit his prostate and his face contorted with ecstasy as his body moved into his own touch, begging for more. He straightened his fingers and thrust them in and out, loosening himself up.

“Derek, please, I can’t take it anymore. I want you.”

Stiles withdrew his hand, amber eyes focused on the man as he made quick work of Derek’s pants, unbuttoning them and pulling them down to his knees. He reached forward and grabbed the condom he had tossed aside. He snagged the foil packet between his teeth and sat back, his hand seeking Derek’s half-hard cock.

Derek gasped at the boy’s touch, arching his back and thrusting into Stiles’ hand as he brushed his palm against his length.

Stiles purred, moving down to Derek’s lap. He lifted his hand and tore open the foil packet, rolling it over Derek’s thick cock. He lowered his face, sliding his tongue around the head of Derek’s thick cock, bright eyes watching his euphoric expression.

Stiles drew back, a trail of spit dripping from his lip. He sat back in Derek’s lap, quickly positioning himself above the man’s throbbing erection before sinking down over his impressive length.

He sighed, nails digging into Derek’s chest.

Derek returned his grip to Stiles’ ass, slowly running his hands back up to the boy’s hips and dragged him down over his length. He bucked his hips and thrust into Stiles.

“Oh, God,” Stiles gasped, hands gipping Derek’s wrists and pinning them above the man’s head.

Derek’s fingers twitched against the pillows as Stiles leant forward, brushing his lips against Derek’s.

“My treat,” he whispered, his brown irises overcome by the black abyss off his dilated pupils.

He rocked his hips back, moving himself up and down on Derek’s cock.

Stiles’ erection rubbed against Derek’s abs, the plump pink head slick with precome as it bobbed off his toned muscles.

Stiles leant back, bracing himself against Derek’s thighs as he moved faster and faster. Derek moaned at the warmth and tension that dragged at his length.

Derek inhaled, smelling every drop of primal sweat that sat upon Stiles’ moonlight-pale flesh, the apple-scented shampoo he used, and the sweet scent of fresh air that clung to his skin.

He watched the boy intently, his freckles dancing across his body as the blanket of flesh rippled as he moved. He watched as Stiles rose up and dropped down over his cock, consuming him.

Stiles’ moans were strangled into broken gasps as he grew closer and closer to his climax. His pace changed from slow, teasing movements to violently fucking himself over Derek’s cock. His stomach tensed and his rhythm stuttered as Derek’s cock pressed against his prostate. He tried to quicken the pace, sliding up to the tip of Derek’s length before dropping down the base.

Derek arched off the bed. He threaded his fingers through Stiles’ hair and chased the boy’s lips. He crushed their mouths together, encouraging Stiles to lie down against Derek’s chest.

Derek’s free hand slid down to Stiles’ hips as he encouraged the boy to lift his ass. Derek began to thrust into Stiles’ warmth eagerly, setting a ferocious page.

Stiles let out a euphoric cry as his ass consumed the length of Derek’s rigid cock.

“Oh God, Stiles,” Derek growled, burying his face in the curve of the boy’s neck.

They were both so close to coming and Stiles was becoming increasingly aware of the affect he had on the man.

“Derek,” he gasped, voice laced with lust.

An animalistic growl rose out of Derek’s chest. He sat upright and flipped Stiles back against the mattress. He hoisted the boy’s ass into his lap and began to thrust hard and deep.

Stiles let out an inarticulate whine, his hands sliding up to Derek’s shoulder and into the dark tufts of his hair, tugging at the strands until it burnt at Derek’s skull.

Derek growled, squeezing a handful of Stiles’ ass and leaning forward to sink his teeth into the firm flesh of the boy’s narrow neck, his fangs aching to drop as the scent of arousal seeped through Stiles’ skin and rolled over the two of them.

“Derek,” Stiles cried out, throwing his head back. “Fuck me harder.”

Derek obliged, moving his hips faster and slamming into Stiles’ ass.

Derek exhaled a repressed groan, “Fuck, Stiles.”

Derek dropped his hands to Stiles’ hips, his nails dragging at the smooth skin as he thrust deep into Stiles.

They came together, spurts of semen erupting from the head of Stiles’ cock and spilling across his sweat-gleaming abs.

Stiles’ struggled to draw breath as the pleasure rolled over him.

Derek let out a heavy sigh as he drew out of Stiles and collapsed against the bed. His ears screamed as a sheet of sweat rolled over his body.

“Holy shit,” Stiles gasped.

“We can’t keep doing this,” Derek muttered. “If this keeps going on it’s going to become something else and I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“Then we won’t make it anything,” Stiles promised. “Friends with benefits is a thing and if you don’t want that then that’s okay too.”

“I don’t know what I want,” Derek admitted.

Stiles rolled over and looked up at Derek. His gorgeous amber eyes glowed in the dull light as he whispered, “That’s okay too.”


	4. Three is a Pattern

 

Stiles whacked his head against his desk, groaning at the cluttered thoughts that swarmed in his head. He sat back in his chair, dragging his hands down his face. He sat forward again and tried to focus on his work.

His eyes flickered between his computer, his textbooks and note books, and the cue cards and study notes that Lydia had given him along with those he had written himself. His case board had been reserved for all things supernatural so his wall was overcome with colourful sticky notes and coloured strings that connected different pieces of card. Pens and highlighters of all kinds and colours were scattered among the mess of paper and books that covered his desk.

He was in the middle of planning out the paragraphs for his English paper – matching quotes from the text and scholarly articles to his arguments, writing down references, and putting them in a cohesive order – when his phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with the notification of a new message.

 

**Derek**

You busy?

 

He glared at the stack of homework that cluttered his desk and typed out the response: ‘No’.

Seconds later his phone buzzed again.

 

**Derek**

I could use some company.

Want to come over?

 

Stiles didn’t think twice about it. He typed out the words ‘Be there in 10’ before hitting send and shoving the phone into the back pocket of his jeans. He rose to his feet, collected his keys and made his way downstairs. He clambered into his Jeep and started the engine, driving by habit down the route he had memorised two summers ago.

He pulled up out the front of Derek’s loft, shutting off the engine and walking up to the front door of the intimidating building. He made his way upstairs and knocked at the door to the loft.

Derek opened it, the heavy metal rattling as it slid back on the small wheels.

Stiles looked up at him, but he didn’t get much time to react before Derek pulled him into the loft and pinned him back against the door, crushing their mouths together.

It wasn’t like the kisses they’ve shared before. It didn’t start out tender or cautious, it was passionate: searing, brutal and bruising. It was hard and deep and messy, a savage domination of tongues as Derek devoured him.

Seconds later Stiles found himself on the bed. Derek’s nimble fingers made quick work of Stiles’ clothes and his own, practically tearing them off of his body with no hesitation. He pulled Stiles' shirt off of his body and tossed it aside somewhere.

Derek brought his mouth to Stiles’ neck, nipping and sucking at the flesh. Stiles whimpered, arching towards Derek’s warmth. Derek purred against his soft skin, biting down on the tender dip of flesh between Stiles’ throat and his chest.

Stiles arched off the bed, letting out a breathless moan.

“Fuck yes,” the boy uttered.

Derek brought their mouths together again.

Stiles tilted his chin, deepening the kiss. He ran his hands up Derek’s chest, feeling his fingers dipping into the curves of his muscles and over the thin dusting of chest hair as he coiled his arms around Derek’s neck and pulled him closer. His lungs burnt, desperate for air.

He broke away to gasp for breath before bringing their lips together again.

It was passion. Pure, unadulterated, savage passion.

Stiles ground his hips against Derek’s thick bulge, hearing the man hiss under his breath.

“Fuck,” Derek gasped, his hot breath rolling across Stiles’ lips.

Stiles chuckled breathlessly.

Derek narrowed his glare at him and sought revenge, craning his neck to devour the exposed flesh of Stiles’ throat. He ran his tongue across the bulge of the teen’s Adam’s apple, feeling the vibration of gasps and whimpers as he ground Stiles’ hips into the sheets. He bit lightly down on the junction of Stiles’ neck and shoulder, making him arch and whimper. Having found a spot sensitive enough to earn such a response, Derek teased it relentlessly.

Stiles was reduced to a mess of whimpers and broken cries, but God he loved it.

Stiles braced his hands against Derek’s chest, shoving him back against the mattress. He clambered atop of the man, straddling his waist and bringing their lips together again as he ground his hips against Derek’s erection.

Stiles sat back, sliding his fingers under the waistline of his jeans and slowly undoing the button.

Derek’s ravenous eyes devoured every inch of his body, his fingers clawing at the rough denim as he relieved Stiles of his pants. He licked at his lips, eyes rolling over Stiles’ abs, trailing down to his exposed cock.

Stiles slid his fingers into Derek’s mouth, his tongue swirling around the slender digits and drenching them in saliva. He reached behind himself and gently teased himself open, sliding a finger inside. He gasped at the intrusion but soon settled.

Stiles didn’t want to admit it but after their last encounter almost a week ago, Stiles had been experimenting during his alone time and learning how to finger himself better. Really, it was because jerking himself off wasn’t as good as the feeling of having something inside of him, and nothing could compare to Derek’s dick.

Derek groaned, urging Stiles on approvingly.

He slid a second finger into his ass, gasping as he ground back against his hand.

“Condom,” Stiles purred.

Derek dropped his hand to Stiles’ hip to keep him upright as he reached into the drawer of the bedside dresser. He pulled a condom and a bottle of lube out of the drawer.

Stiles snatched the condom from his hold, tearing open the foil packet and rolling the condom over Derek’s length. Derek popped open the bottle of lubricant – as eager as ever – and poured a small amount onto his hand. He ran his palm up and down his cock, smearing to cool lube over his length as Stiles positioned himself in Derek’s lap.

Stiles slowly sank down over Derek’s length, letting out a savage cry as Derek edged into him inch by inch. They stayed still for a moment, waiting for the tight muscles of Stiles’ ass to adjust to Derek’s thick cock.

Derek sat upright, littering tender kisses across Stiles’ collarbone.

Stiles was the first to move, grinding down against Derek’s length before setting a slow rhythm of shallow thrusts.

Derek took the lead, grabbing Stiles’ hip and thrusting into him. He rolled the boy onto the sheets, listing his waist up and coiling Stiles’ legs around his waist as he leant forward, crushing their mouths together in order to muffle their moans as he began to move faster, drawing his length out to the tip before slamming into Stiles’ ass again.

Stiles clawed at the bedsheets, balling his fists and scratching at the soft cotton.

Derek nipped at his throat, not hard enough to leave a mark, but just hard enough to make Stiles cry out from overstimulation. Derek sat back, grabbing Stiles hips and thrusting into him faster.

“Derek,” Stiles moaned, earning a growl in response.

Derek withdrew from Stiles.

“Turn over,” he instructed.

Stiles did as told, rolling onto his hands and knees.

Derek took a moment to look at him, spreading his palm and smacking the soft tissue of Stiles’ ass. Stiles yelped, arching back to Derek’s touch. Derek leant forward, purring as he pressed kisses down the curve of Stiles’ spine and spanking the boy again.

Derek straightened his back, realigning his cock with Stiles’ ass. He thrust into him, hard enough that the boy fell forward.

Derek arched forward over Stiles and brought his lips to Stiles’ ear.

“You dare make one dog joke and you’ll regret it,” Derek growled.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Stiles purred in response. “But it is tempting, so you might have to fuck me beyond speech.”

Derek ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair and pushed him down until his face was buried among the sheets.

Stiles pushed back against Derek’s cock, encouraging him to continue.

Derek thrust into him violently, pounding his ass.

Stiles let out a euphoric cry, the sound muffled as he buried his face in the bed and bit into the worn cotton.

Derek watched as the freckles danced across the blanket of Stiles’ smooth skin, rippling with his movements.

Stiles’ moans were strangled into broken gasps as he grew closer and closer to his climax.

Derek grabbed his shoulder and pulled him up onto his knees. He buried his face into the curve of Stiles’ neck inhaling the scent of bitter, primitive sweat and undeniable arousal that radiated off his skin. He angled his hips and thrust against Stiles’ prostate, driving the boy mad.

Stiles cried out, lifting an arm to grab at a fistful of Derek’s raven-black locks.

Derek sank his teeth into the pale flesh of Stiles’ shoulder, his hips sputtering as he thrust into him and came. The sensation of semen spilling into the condom while Derek’s dick was shoved deep into his ass drove Stiles over the edge.

Hot semen erupted from his dick as a wave of pleasure rolled over him.

He collapsed back into Derek’s arms, his head falling against his shoulder.

Derek pressed tender kisses against the red marks that tainted his pale flesh. He nuzzled his face into Stiles’ neck, holding them there as they rode out their orgasms.

Derek slowly withdrew from Stiles, setting the boy down among the sheets as he shed the condom and cleaned the both of them up. Once done, he laid down in bed, slumping down amongst the blankets and pillows next to Stiles.

“Are you okay?” Derek asked, turning his glittering worried eyes towards Stiles.

Stiles nodded, panting as he tried to catch his breath. “That was definitely the break I needed from homework.”

They were quiet for a while after that.

“You do realise this is becoming a thing?” Stiles pointed out.

Derek stayed silent.

“One’s an incident, two’s a coincidence and three’s a pattern,” Stiles quoted his father.

“What’s four?” Derek asked.

“Enough for a warrant,” Stiles teased.

Derek looked tense for a moment.

“I’m kidding,” Stiles assured him. “You said you weren’t ready for a relationship so we can just be friends with benefits. And who cares if this is a one-time thing, a two-time thing or a twenty-time thing as long as it doesn’t become a relationship thing?”

Derek thought about it for a moment.

“If something happens then we can call it off, easy as that,” Stiles promised. “We’re still friends, we’re just friends who have sex.”

“I think I could live with that, but on one condition.” Derek turned to look at Stiles, his glittering aventurine eyes bright and firm. “We don’t tell Scott or the pack.”

“Agreed.”


	5. The Blind Man

“Dude, I’m freaking out,” Stiles muttered, peering out from behind his curtains and at the figures on the street. “He’s here.”

“Who?” Scott asked.

“The blind man who was at school last week,” Stiles answered, pulling the curtains shut again. “He’s out the front of my house, Scott. And he’s not alone. There’s a man with him and that guy looks like a freaking Titan, like more threatening than John Cena or The Rock or some combination of both. My point is they’ve been outside my house for nearly thirty minutes now and I’m freaking out.”

There was quiet mumbling as Scott talked to someone on the other end of the call.

Stiles dared to glance out from behind his curtains again.

The blind man’s head snapped upwards, his cloudy eyes honing in on Stiles.

The boy dropped the curtain and hid.

“Stiles?” Scott called. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m still here,” Stiles whispered.

“Have you locked the doors?” Scott asked.

“Yeah,” Stiles replied. His heart skipped a beat and he swallowed hard, his voice strained as he rasped, “Why?”

“Just stay inside,” Scott instructed.

“Scott,” Stiles growled. “Tell me why?”

“If it who we think it is then they won’t hurt you, but we don’t want to risk it,” Scott replied.

“Scott McCall, I swear to God, if you don’t give me an answer right now I’m going to come over there right now and wrap my bat in barbed wire and wolfsbane and shove it up your-”

“Derek says it’s the Alpha pack,” Scott replied honestly.

Stiles froze.

“I told you there was something off about him,” Stiles muttered under his breath.

“I know. Look, it’s not likely that they’ll hurt you; you’re not an alpha, or even a werewolf for that matter,” Scott tried to reassure him. “But even so, we don’t want to risk you getting hurt. Just stay inside until they leave.”

“And if they don’t leave?” Stiles asked, glancing outside once more.

“Call your dad and have the Sheriff’s department deal with them for stalking and loitering,” Scott suggested.

“Stiles,” the man called form outside, his voice husky but alluring.

The boy peered through the curtain again.

The blind man was looking right at him.

“If that’s Scott on the phone, invite him over,” the blind man said. His face twisted into a cynical smile as he added, “I’d love to meet him.”

Stiles slunk back into the shadows.

“Dude,” he whispered. “He’s asking for you.”

“I’m coming to get you,” Scott announced.

“No,” Stiles yelped. “This is obviously a trap. He’s using me as bait to get you here. The safest place for you to be is there.”

He pulled the phone away from his face and shouted, “I know you’re listening to this phone call and I’m not going to tell you where he is or what you want to hear.”

He brought the phone back to his ear and whispered, “Stay safe, man.”

“You too.”

He hung up and set his phone down on his desk.

He drew in a deep breath and opened his curtains. He lifted the window slightly and shouted.

“I have two math assignments, a history essay, revision for a chemistry test and an English paper to do, I can wait all day,” Stiles taunted.

The blind alpha looked up at him, tilting his head slightly with curiosity.

“That’s right, you don’t scare me,” Stiles shouted. “And I’m not going to tell you where Scott is.”

“While it would be nice to meet the infamous true alpha, we don’t have any quarrel with Scott McCall,” the blind alpha called back. “We do, however, have some unfinished business with Derek Hale.”

“Well he’s not here either and I have no idea where he is, so you’re just going to have to stand there like two lost idiots,” Stiles replied.

“We know you’re close to him,” the man called. “He’ll come.”

Stiles forced a fake laugh. “Derek won’t come. And good luck trying to use me as bait.”

The blind man smirked and repeated, “He’ll come.”

Stiles shut the window and drew the curtains again, turning his attention to the mountains of homework stacked up on his desk.

He turned on his computer and set up his iPod. He began to play music, turning up the volume on his speakers and drowning out any sounds from the outside world. He quietly crept downstairs and picked up the baseball bat that was by the front door before returning to his room.

He set the bat by his desk and sat down.

He unlocked his phone and opened the messages. His hands trembled slightly as he typed out a message to Scott and sent it.

 

They’re after Derek.


	6. Four Means This is Something Else

“I can take care of myself,” Derek argued, welcoming Stiles into the loft anyway.

“Yeah, well, I’m not sure I can,” Stiles admitted. “And since they’re after the both of us, I thought it’d be better if we didn’t split up and let them play us.”

“You have a point,” Derek agreed. “You can take the bed.”

“Where are you going to sleep?” Stiles asked.

“Couch.”

“Derek,” Stiles scolded. “We’re two grown men, we can share a bed. Strictly platonically, of course.”

Derek sighed and heeded to the boy’s subtle demands.

Stiles watched Derek laud down on the bed and settled among the pillows. Derek patted at the sheets beside him and waited.

Stiles dropped his bag and crawled onto the bed. He rolled onto his side and curled up against Derek’s side.

“You’re not going to sleep are you?” Derek asked.

Stiles shook his head. “These alphas have me freaked out. I’m scared that if I go to sleep they’ll come and we won’t be able to fight them off.”

“They already know where I live,” Derek reminded him. “The fact that they came after you means they’re playing fear games. Trying to bait me and Scott into action. We won’t let them hurt you, I promise.”

“So you and Scott are now my bodyguards?” Stiles teased.

Derek smirked. “Something like that.”

They were quiet after that.

“So, what does the blind guy want with you?” Stiles asked.

Derek sighed heavily. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling as he explained, “His name’s Deucalion and he and my mother were two of the most powerful alphas in California. Deucalion wanted to fight the hunters and get revenge for all the werewolves they had killed but my mother talked him out of it. The next day, hunters attacked him, shoved explosive arrows in his eyes and blinded him. To this day, he blames my mother and, because my mother’s dead, he’s coming after me.”

“Why does he blame your mothers for what hunters did to him?” Stiles asked.

“Because if she hadn’t talked him out of it then he could have killed Gerard and never would have been blinded,” Derek answered.

“Gerard? As in Gerard Argent?”

Derek nodded.

“Why don’t we hand him over to Deucalion?” Stiles offered. “He’s going to die soon anyway and we’d be rid of one more asshole in the world. Or if he wants Hale blood, why don’t we give him Peter, God knows we’re better off without him.”

Derek smirked slightly but shook his head again.

“He wants the blood of a Hale alpha,” Derek confirmed. He turned to look at Stiles, his irises lighting up with a brilliant vermilion glow. “He wants my blood.”

“That’s not fair,” Stiles argued.

“That’s just how it is,” Derek replied.

Stiles slumped back against the pillows, gnawing at the inside of his cheeks as he tried to think of some kind of solution.

There was another moment of quiet before Stiles muttered, “I could really use a distraction.”

Derek smiled and slid his hand into Stiles’, weaving their fingers together as he rolled the boy over and laid him against the sheets. He pressed a tender kiss to Stiles’ lips. As he drew back, he slid down the mattress, kneeling at the end of the bed. He caught Stiles by the ankles and pulled him to the edge of the bed, taking joy in the surprised yelp that escaped the boy’s lips. He knelt over Stiles, straddling his waist and levelling himself with the boy’s eyes.

Derek kissed him again, his lips slowly brushing across Stiles’.

Stiles hummed blissfully, chasing Derek’s mouth as he drew back.

Derek caressed Stiles’ slender body, his fingertips lingering over the curves of the boy’s surprisingly firm abs. He held one broad hand against Stiles’ hip, the other halted on the boy’s chest and pinning him back against the mattress and pushing his shirt up.

“Stop me any time, okay?”

Stiles nodded. His warm chocolate eyes observed Derek intently as the man dropped his lips to the boy’s chest, littering kisses across exposed patches of skin. Derek pressed his face to Stiles’ abdomen, trailing kisses down his stomach and to his waist before drawing away slightly. The heat of his breath tussled the small trail of hair that disappeared beneath the waistline of Stiles’ boxers. Stiles’ breathing was ragged and only became worse as Derek caught the elastic between his teeth and dragged it down, torturing a gasp from the boy as the rush of cool air rolled over his flesh.

Derek ran his hands up Stiles’ shins and down his calves. He braced his palms against Stiles’ inner thighs, urging him to spread his legs. He craned his neck and placed a soft kiss against the underside of Stiles’ erection and quickly followed it by dragging his tongue up his length. He listened to Stiles whimper and gasp.

He licked his lips, tasting the beads of salty precome that dripped over Stiles’ pulsing cock.

Stiles gasped as Derek swirled his tongue around the head of his cock before taking the whole length in his mouth without warning.

Stiles moaned and muttered obscenities, making Derek’s crotch throb. He couldn’t help but hum against Stiles’ cock, the rumbling purr making the boy’s hips buck and thrust deeper into Derek’s mouth. He tightened his mouth around Stiles’ length, gently massaging circles into Stiles’ inner thighs with his thumbs as he moved his head up and down the boy’s cock.

Stiles bucked his hips towards the warmth of Derek’s mouth.

The alpha grabbed at Stiles’ hip, shoving him back against the edge of the mattress and holding him there.

The boy squirmed beneath his hold, threading a hand through Derek’s hair and tugging at tufts.

With his free hand, Derek grabbed Stiles’ hand and pinned it against the sheets.

Stiles yelped, looking at Derek with his gorgeous, glittering amber eyes.

Derek pulled away from Stiles, precome dripping from his lips.

“You have to learn self-control,” he whispered.

Stiles whimpered incomprehensibly, squirming and thrusting, desperate to feel Derek’s warmth again.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Stiles shook his head violently, staring at Derek with lustful eyes.

“Okay, I won’t then,” he whispered softly, lowering himself back between Stiles’ legs. He took Stiles’ cock back in his mouth, rolling his tongue around the tip and gently sucking at the head, listening to Stiles as he gasped, whimpered and moaned. He lapped at the tip of Stiles’ cock before slowly working his way down the shaft and dragging his lips back up the length.

Stiles gasped Derek’s name, letting out the most delightful sounds as his stomach tensed and he drew closer to his climax.

Derek moved his head faster, rolling his tongue around the boy’s head as he did.

Stiles heaved in shallow breaths, gasping and moaning as his back arched off the bed and he clawed at the sheets. He let out a strangled moan as Derek sank down on him.

He came, hot sticky semen flowing from the head of his cock.

Derek slowly drew his mouth away, swallowing the semen and licking at the salty drops that were spattered over his lips. He pressed a soft kiss against Stiles’ inner thigh.

“Holy shit,” Stiles gasped. “That was better than anything I could have ever imagined.”

“You image me blowing you?” Derek asked.

“Sometimes in my dreams,” Stiles admitted with a mischievous smirk. “I can’t help that you’re so goddamn gorgeous.”

Stiles arched up off of the bed, grinding his returning erection against the bulge in Derek’s pants as he purred, “Besides, I image a lot more than just that.”

Derek shoved him back down on the bed, bounding atop the boy and pinning him down against the mattress.

Stiles gasped, buckling his hips up to meet Derek’s. He felt the man’s bulge press against his thigh.

Derek was hard as hell, his erection aching and drooling precome through his boxers.

The man moaned, burying his face in the curve of Stiles’ throat. He bit lightly down on the junction of Stiles’ neck and shoulder, causing Stiles to arch up with a full-body shudder and wordless moan. Derek teased him relentlessly: nipping and sucking at the tender spot before lathering it with bristly kisses.

Stiles found himself flipped onto his stomach as Derek settled himself between Stiles’ legs.

Stiles shuffled about, rising onto his knees and grinding his ass back against Derek’s throbbing erection.

He wanted to laugh at himself for _presenting_ himself to Derek.

Derek arched over Stiles, his hot breath making the hairs on the back of the boy’s neck rise.

Stiles’ crotch throbbed at the sound of Derek’s unrestrained gasps, savage groans and rugged panting. His erection bounced against the flat of his stomach as Derek began to buck his hips, rubbing his rock-hard dick against Stiles’ ass.

He dragged his claws across Stiles’ skin, watching angry red marks trail in their wake. He ran his hands from the boy’s shoulders down to his ass. He kneaded at Stiles’ soft cheeks, a low rumble escaped his lungs, rolling across the boy’s skin.

Stiles shuddered at the sensation, rolling his head back and exposing his throat.

Derek took advantage of the boy’s dropped defences, bringing his lips to Stiles’ jugular and littering the skin with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. He nipped and sucked at the spot, not hard enough to break the skin but just enough that it would leave a mark in the morning, and definitely enough to reduce the boy to shuddering moans.

Stiles reached back, resting his hand against Derek’s cheek. He felt the man’s rough whiskers brush against the palm of his hand as Derek nuzzled his face against Stiles’ hand.

Derek ran his hand through the boy’s soft locks, gently tugging at his unkempt hair.

Stiles pushed back into his grip, letting Derek’s slender fingers guide him.

He tilted the boy’s head to the side and brought their mouths together. The first kiss was tender as Derek brushed his lips across Stiles’, then Derek crushed their mouths together in a brutal, bruising kiss.

Derek ran his tongue across Stiles’ lips and Stiles obeyed, opening his mouth to welcome Derek’s tongue. It was deep and messy, passionate as his tongue dominated Stiles’.

Stiles ground back against Derek’s hips.

Derek purred, arching forward to return the thrust.

Sweat soaked their bodies as their scents began to mingle.

“Derek,” Stiles gasped. “Fuck me.”

Derek thrust his hips against Stiles’ ass. He sat back, feeling the boy shiver from the loss of warmth. He stripped out of his clothes and reached for a condom and lube. He tore the packet open and rolled the condom over this pulsing shaft before pouring the lube onto his hand and slicking up his length. He crept back onto the bed and positioned himself behind Stiles. He spread the boy’s cheeks and lined himself up with Stiles’ eager entrance before he slowly eased his length into Stiles’ ass.

Stiles tensed for a moment at the intrusion, breathing heavily and smothering a moan as he tried to relax and welcome the man’s throbbing length.

Derek was struggling to stay patient. Stiles’ ass was hot and deliciously tight, and resisting the urge to simply give in and savagely fuck the boy into the sheets was testing his already limited self-control.

Stiles gently rolled his hips against Derek’s length, an indication that he was okay and Derek could proceed.

Derek rested his hands on the boy’s hips, slowly drawing out before buckling his hips and slamming his length into Stiles’ ass again.

Stiles arched his back, a savage moan tearing at his throat.

Derek’s carnal instincts took over, grabbing a hold of Stiles’ hips and thrusting into the boy.

Stiles cried out, the wave of pain delighting him, making his crotch throb and ache. His arms trembled and collapsed beneath him. He buried his face into the pillow, biting down into the cotton to stifle his moans.

Derek arched over Stiles, his thrusts faster and deeper as he nipped at the ridges of Stiles’ shoulder blades.

He felt a wave of pleasure wash over him, the sound of Stiles’ delighted moans spurring him on.

 

Derek littered kisses across Stiles’ shoulders. He reached around Stiles, his hands spreading the boy’s legs over his lap and exposing Stiles’ dribbling cock. He rubbed his thumbs in small circles, feeling the tense muscles twitch beneath his touch.

“Oh fuck,” Stiles gasped.

Derek growled, nipping at Stiles’ shoulder.

“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles whimpered, his voice laced with lust.

Derek was losing control again, his breathing heavy and eyes burning with power.

He thrust into Stiles, sudden and brutal.

Stiles cried out.

Derek moved one hand from Stiles’ thigh to the boy’ neck. He gently massaged the flesh before applying pressure. He squeezed the boy’s throat, thrusting harder and faster. He heard the boy gasp for breath, wheezing as Derek choked him more.

Derek ran kisses along Stiles’ jaw, glancing at the boy’s face.

The corner of Stiles’ lips were curved up into a small smile, his chocolate-brown eyes misted with lust. His lips hung open, twitching as the promise of sweet relief danced before him.

Derek’s grip tightened on Stiles’ thigh, his claws piercing the skin and drawing blood. The hot liquid ran down the inside of Stiles’ leg, the sensation arousing him. There was no indication of pain, only pleasure.

Derek lost himself, his hips moving by instinct as he savagely fucked the teenager.

Stiles’ moans escalated into one, drawn-out cry. His nails dragged at the back of Derek’s skull, earning a deep growl as he picked up the pace.

Derek released his grip on the boy’s throat, listening to Stiles gasp for breath beneath his ragged cries. He adjusted his grip on the boy, tightening his grip on the boy’s hips as he pulled the boy down over his length and he slammed into him.

Stiles clawed at the sheets, nails scratching at the soft cotton.

It was passion. Pure, unadulterated, savage passion.

Derek pounded him into the sheets, his cock bruising Stiles’ insides.

Stiles let out a savage moan as spurts of sticky come splashed against his abs, spilling onto the sheets.

Air escaped him, his lips quivering and eyes fluttering. His eyes fell shut and he collapsed against the bed.

Derek bucked his hips once more and came.

He took a second to catch his breath. He felt the tension in his muscles subside as he rode out the orgasm.

He slowly withdrew from Stiles’ ass and set the boy down among the sheets.

“I’m sorry,” Derek gasped. “I shouldn’t have gotten carried away.”

Stiles was still trying to steady his breath as he whispered, “It’s okay. I’m alright. That was rough, but nice.”

Derek buried his face in the curve of Stiles’ neck.

The boy’s hand trembled slightly as he gently patted Derek’s head.

“Is there something you want to talk about?” Stiles asked.

Derek shook his head.

“Really, because judging by how hard you just fucked me, you seem a little tense,” Stiles pointed out.

“I lost control,” Derek admitted sitting back. He shuffled over to the edge of the bed and hung his head in his hands. “This is why I tried to stop this before it started. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Derek,” Stiles called softly. “Look at me. I’m okay.”

“But I’m not,” Derek confessed. “I let this become something more than platonic and I let myself fall for it. I lost control of my emotions and I lost control.”

Stiles was silent.

“You mean…” Stiles’ words failed him.

“I can’t do this,” Derek muttered weakly. “I can’t drag you into this.”

“Derek,” Stiles said softly.

“No,” Derek interrupted. “Everyone around me gets hurt. I don’t want that for you.”

Stiles dragged himself across the bed. He winced as he sat upright. He cupped Derek’s cheeks and brought their lips together.

This kiss was different from all the others. It was tender, loving and genuine.

Derek felt tears well in his eyes, his heart breaking more and more by the second.

Stiles drew back slightly, resting his head against Derek’s forehead and nuzzling into his warmth.

Derek shook his head slightly, pulling back to dress himself in his jeans and his Henley.

“I can’t do this,” Derek said softly, making his way towards the door. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Stiles opened his mouth to call after him, but it was too late. Derek was gone.


	7. Achilles Heel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay in getting this to you.

“You’ve been unusually quiet all day,” Scott pointed out, tossing his sweat-soaked clothes in his gym bag.

“That tends to happen when someone you like breaks your heart,” Stiles muttered.

“Dude, I’m sorry,” Scott whispered.

Stiles pulled on his hoodie and shut his locker.

“I’ll be out by the car,” Stiles mumbled as he lugged his lacrosse gear out into the hallway.

He knew Scott was watching him, but he didn’t really care.

He shoved at the large double doors and stepped out into the cool air.

The lacrosse game had finished ages ago and the team had headed off to celebrate their victory with a sex-filled, booze-fuelled, party.

Stiles had passed on the opportunity and Scott had too, for Stiles’ sake.

But that left the carpark abandoned and silent.

The sun had set and the sky was a dark shade of blue, not quite lightless.

A streetlamp hung over Stiles’ car, the dull light flickering as the lightbulb began to die.

Stiles dug into his pocket and pulled out his tinkling mess of keys.

He flicked through them until he found the key to his Jeep.

He gasped as a heavy hand clamped over his mouth.

Stiles dropped his bag and his keys, thrashing about in the hold of the man’s strong arms.

He clawed at the man’s hand, trying to pry it away from his face, but the man used his free hand to pin down Stiles’ flailing arms.

His lungs burnt for air, an agonising pain that radiated through his chest.

 _Scott,_ he pleaded silently. _Scott, help me_.

Tears welled in his eyes, falling past his thick eyelashes and coursing down his cheeks.

_Scott, please help me._

He tried to make noise, tried to kick the man’s shins or kick his Jeep, anything that would make enough noise to catch Scott’s attention.

His vision was blurred and flashes of colour blinded him.

His lungs felt like they were erupting within his chest.

 _Scott, please_ , he begged.

His vision blacked out.

_Anyone…_

He weakened in the man’s arms, breathless and unable to fight.

He felt his limp body be hoisted over someone’s shoulder, but then there was nothing, only the dark, weightless abyss.

_Someone… anyone… help me._

 

-.-.-.-.-.-

 

Derek’s phone chimed.

He glanced across the loft at it, slowly making his way across the space and picking it up off of his desk.

It was a message form Stiles with a video attachment.

Derek unlocked his phone and opened the video.

His heart lurched into his throat as the recording began to play.

Stiles was chained to an overhanging pipe, his body covered in blood and torn to shreds. His shoulders heaved up and down with his heavy breaths as he glared at the person holding his phone.

“It won’t work,” Stiles growled. “Derek won’t come. He doesn’t care about me.”

“We know that’s a lie,” a familiar husky voice scolded. “In fact, he cares about you the most.”

“You’re delusional,” Stiles hissed.

“Again,” Deucalion ordered.

A lean woman, Kali, stepped into camera. She fitted a gag into Stiles’ mouth before strutting over to a car battery and picking up the jumper cables. She connected the ends to the output, the charge coursing through the cables to where the other ends were connected to Stiles’ cuffs. A cynical smile played on her lips as she watched Stiles thrash against the chains, his body gyrating and shuddering violently as an agonising scream tore at his throat.

The old screws that secured the pipes to the roof rattled and clattered. The metal bars creaked and groaned as they desperately clung to the wall.

The handcuffs that held Stiles in place bit into the boy’s frail wrists, blood trailing from the torn skin. He balled his fists, his blunt nails digging into the palms of his hands. Blood spilled down his arms, each drop falling from his body, shattering across the floor and rippling as it began to pool.

“Enough,” Deucalion announced.

Kali disconnected the cables, smirking. She stepped back over to Stiles’ side and pulled the rag from his mouth.

Stiles coughed and sputtered, spitting out blood.

“You’re a psycho bitch,” Stiles gasped.

Kali growled lowly and backhanded Stiles.

“Kali,” Deucalion warned.

The female alpha huffed and stepped back.

“Maybe I should bite you,” Deucalion offered. “If you live, you’ll endure a lot more than a couple hundred volts. If you don’t, then we won’t lose anything important, will we?”

“Go to hell,” Stiles huffed.

Deucalion looked towards Kali and nodded again.

She shoved the rag back into Stiles’ mouth and connected the cables again.

Derek flinched, looking away. He couldn’t watch. The sound of Stiles’ cries were bad enough.

After a couple of seconds, the screams died away and Kali disconnected the cables.

There was a thundering bang as Stiles pulled the pipe free from the ceiling. The pipe hit Kali on the head, stunning her for a second.

Stiles took advantage of it, sliding the handcuffs free and coiling them around the alpha’s throat. He pulled back on them, the metal chains digging into her neck.

Kali let out frail gasps.

Ennis stepped forward, slamming his hand into Stiles’ throat and hurling him across the room.

Stiles hit the far wall with a solid thud and a pained yelp. He collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath.

Kali turned on him, her eyes glowing red as she stalked towards him.

“Kali,” Deucalion growled.

The woman flinched and stepped back.

The video ended.

Derek swallowed hard, his heart pounding against his chest and his mouth dry.

He jumped when his phone rang and Scott’s name appeared on the screen.

He answered the call and lifted the phone to his ear.

“Stiles is missing,” Scott said, panicked.

“I know,” Derek announced. “The alpha’s have him. They just sent me a video.”

“Where is he?” Scott asked.

“I don’t know,” Derek admitted. “Look, I’m going to send the video to you. Don’t watch it, just take it to the Sheriff and get him on it.”

“Fine, and then I’m coming to the loft,” Scott announced.

“I can handle this,” Derek replied.

“I’m not letting you do this alone,” Scott argued. “Stiles is my friend too. I can’t lose him. I want to help.”

“Okay,” Derek agreed. “Take the video to Sheriff Stilinski and I’ll organise a meet up with the alphas.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” Scott said, fumbling with his phone as he climbed into his car. “Don’t do anything without me.”

“Fine,” Derek agreed, hanging up.

He forwarded the video to Scott and then called Stiles’ phone.

“Hello,” Deucalion answered, his voice smug and boastful. “I’ll give you what you want: my life for his. Just tell me where to meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned because the final chapter will be up this Friday.


	8. Asymptote

“I thought I told you to come alone,” Deucalion growled, his clouded eyes drifting from Derek to Scott as the two approached.

“I’m honouring our agreement,” Derek assured him. “He’s just here to make sure you keep your end of the bargain.”

“Oh, I have no need for Stiles now,” Deucalion said with a smirk.

“Then let him go,” Derek bargained. “I’ll gladly walk to my death, just let him go and give a minute to say goodbye.”

Deucalion looked towards Ennis and nodded.

The brutish alpha hurled Stiles forward.

Derek caught him before he hit the ground, bundling the boy up in his arms and holding him close.

“I’m sorry,” Derek whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Stiles replied softly.

“Stiles, no matter what, I’m sorry. I knew it would end like this,” Derek muttered. He leant in close and whispered three soft words into Stiles’ ear.

Stiles froze, his eyes wide with fear.

Derek brought their lips together in one last tender kiss.

Tears welled in Stiles’ eyes, coursing his cheeks as he held onto that moment. He knew it was coming to an end but he wanted to live in that second forever: curled up in Derek’s arms and melting into the warmth of his loving kisses.

Derek drew back slowly, helping Stiles to his feet and handing him over to Scott.

“Make sure he gets out of here,” Derek instructed.

Scott nodded.

“Stay safe, both of you,” Derek uttered before turning back to face Deucalion.

He drew in a deep breath and took a few steps forward.

“No,” Stiles whimpered weakly, watching on helplessly as Derek lowered himself to his knees before the leader of the Alpha pack. “No.”

Derek let out a heavy sigh and tilted his chin upwards and looked up at the sky, staring into the peaceful oblivion above him. It was a gorgeous pool of onyx night like an inverted map of Stiles’ moles, the dark starry sky glittering like a reflection on the surface of a lake.

He let his breath fall from his lungs as his glittering eyes fell shut.

“No,” Stiles sobbed, fighting off Scott’s arms as his friend held him back. “Derek, no.”

Deucalion spread his fingers, exposing his jagged claws as he stepped forward. His misted grey eyes darkened into a bright vermilion as he stared down at Derek.

He lifted his arm high into the air.

He swung downwards, talons tearing through Derek’s golden flesh.

Stiles let out a heart-breaking scream as blood was scattered across the dew-glistening blades of grass in the open field.

Stiles weakened in Scott’s arms, sobbing violently as Derek’s body sagged forward and fell to the ground.

Blood streamed from Derek’s throat, staining his shirt and pooling on the cool earth.

“No!” Stiles screamed, breaking free of Scott’s grasp and sprinting to Derek’s side.

Scott ran after him.

Deucalion made no attempt to stop them.

The alpha levelled his menacing glare with Scott’s fear-filled eyes.

Deucalion nodded curtly to him, his eyes fading back to the misty grey colour before the man turned and walked away.

Stiles weakly pressed his hands to Derek’s throat, desperately trying to cover the gaping wound.

“Stiles,” Scott muttered weakly.

“We have to get him to a hospital,” Stiles sobbed, pulling off his jacket and tying it around Derek’s throat.

“Stiles…”

“For God sake, Scott, help me!” Stiles barked.

Scott snapped into action, lifting Derek’s arm around his shoulder and hoisting Derek to his feet.

“The hospital’s around the corner,” Scott announced.

“Then hurry,” Stiles ordered, supporting Derek’s other shoulder.

They ran towards Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, bursting through the door and rushing into the brightly lit waiting room.

“Melissa,” Stiles cried.

The woman rounded the corner, her eyes wide with shock as she saw the two blood soaked boys dragging Derek’s body into the hospital.

“Mum, please, help him,” Scott pleaded.

“Get him on a gurney,” Melissa instructed, calling medical staff to join her.

Scott and Stiles hoisted Derek’s still body onto the thin mattress.

Stiles took a hold of the alpha’s hand.

“Hold on, Derek,” he pleaded. “Hold on.”

The nurses and surgeons grabbed the gurney, wheeling it down the long hallways. Stiles watched as they connected the IV and blood transfusions, wadded up his blood-soaked throat, and pulled back his leather jacket to check his wounds. Stiles started to chase after them when a heavy hand fell on his shoulder, stopping him.

“What did he say to you?” Scott asked.

“Remember the asymptote,” Stiles quoted.

“What does that mean?”

“An asymptote is a straight line that continually approaches a given curve but does not meet it at any finite distance,” Stiles explained.

“I don’t get it,” Scott muttered.

“It means he knew,” Stiles answered. “He knew how I felt… he knew I loved him. But we didn’t stand a chance.”

 

-.-.-.-.-.-

 

An hour later, Scott and Stiles sat in the waiting room, both sitting with their heads in their hands.

A nurse had come to check on Stiles, tending to his wounds and checking for any serious trauma. He had abrasions in his mouth from where the electrocutions had ruptured his flesh and his wrists were torn open but he refused to step aside or go for x-rays until he knew for sure whether or not Derek was going to live.

The nurse had cleaned and dressed his wounds and checked for internal bleeding. She had given Stiles permission to sit with Scott, although he wasn’t cleared to be discharged from hospital until he was checked for anything more serious.

“Stiles?” a familiar voice called.

“Dad,” Stiles muttered, rising to his feet.

The man bounded across the room, pulling the boy into his arms.

“How did you know where I was?” Stiles asked.

“Scott texted me five minutes ago to let me know you were okay and in hospital,” his father explained. “I saw the video.”

“I’m fine, dad,” Stiles assured him. “A couple of bumps and bruises but I’m okay.”

His father cupped his cheek, pulling the boy into his arms.

Stiles buried his face in his dad’s shirt, sobbing violently as another wave of tears overcame him.

“Derek…”

“I know,” Sheriff Stilinski whispered. “I know.”

Stiles’ shoulders trembled, tears falling down his cheeks and seeping into the dull brown fabric of his father’s shirt.

Sheriff Stilinski gently shushed the boy, cupping the back of his head and holding him close as the boy cried.

There was a quiet cough behind them.

Stiles’ sobs quietened away as he pulled back and turned to look at Melissa.

She had discarded her blood-soaked scrubs and stood patiently in the doorway.

“Any news?” Stiles rasped, his heart aching from desperation.

A soft smile lifted her cheeks. “He made it.”

Stiles let out a sigh of relief, practically falling to the floor.

“He won’t be awake for a while and he won’t be able to talk until we get a proper assessment of the trauma, but he’s alive,” she explained.

“Can I sit with him?” Stiles asked.

“Yes,” Melissa answered. “Right after you get your x-rays and trauma assessment.”

Stiles agreed, sitting through what felt like hours of scans and prodding until Melissa finally discharged him. She called in his father and explained his dietary requirements for the abrasions in his mouth – no solid foods for a week or so or until they’re healed – and prescribed a healing cream for the gashes on his wrists that would hopefully help him heal without scarring.

But finally, she guided Stiles down the hall and into the small hospital room.

Stiles froze in the doorway, looking down at the man’s weak form. His eyes were swollen, shut and dark. A thick pipe helped air flow in and out of his lungs. The machine it was connected to hissed and clunked as it pumped the oxygen into him. His usually golden skin was pale and covered in a sheet of sweat. The skin around his chest and neck was red and covered in splotches of colours, developing bruises. A thick layer of gauzes and bandages were coiled around Derek’s throat, some stained with swirls of brown and red while others were crisp and white. His firm arms laid still atop of the white sheets, the ghostly tone of his skin bleeding in to the cotton. Two tubes ran down into his forearm, the IV slowly dripping fluids and the other introducing whole blood into his veins.

His eyes fluttered slightly but didn’t open.

The machines beeped and whined. A thin green line spiking across the screen of the monitor, a welcome sign that the man was alive.

Stiles slowly crept over to his side and sat down in the chair by the bed. He reached forward and took Derek’s hand in his own.

He heard the door shut with a quiet hush as Melissa left the two alone.

“Hey, Sourwolf,” Stiles whispered. He lifted Derek’s arm and pressed a tender kiss to the back of his hand. “You didn’t really think I’d let you die, did you?”

He knew Derek wouldn’t reply but he stayed silent for a moment, hoping for some kind of reaction.

“I refuse to believe in the asymptote,” Stiles told the unconscious man. “I mean, our lives have crossed and parted so many times that maybe should stop fighting it, stop running away, stop making it an asymptote. Maybe we’ll start making it a convergence.”

He felt Derek’s hand twitch, his grip very weak by holding onto Stiles nonetheless.

Stiles smiled and whispered, “Yeah, I like that idea too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is. The final chapter.  
> Thank you all for coming on this rollercoaster ride of a journey with me. I apologise for the delays in posting chpates and I hope that you enjoyed the story. :)

**Author's Note:**

> celestialvoid-fanfiction.tumblr.com


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